Change
by Renata Swift
Summary: Change is inevitable. Change cannot be stopped. The changes have been great in Ben's life, so he stops to reflect. Oneshot, and first story in the Mercy Me! Chronicles.


**Change **

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**Ever since I found out songfics were banned on this site, I removed the song from this fic, and uploaded it. I still think it's better with the song. Anyway, NT and its characters don't belong to me, just Mercy and friends. Enjoy! **

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"I thought cameras weren't allowed in here," the blonde woman smirked, circles under her tired eyes, pushing strands of hair out of her face while adjusting her IV and trying to cradle a baby in her arms. "Ben, help me!" she laughed. 

"One more shot, Abi, and then I'll help you," Benjamin Gates laughed at his wife trying to adjust herself in her hospital bed. "There we go!" he smiled triumphantly as the camera obliged and took a photo. Keeping the camera on a small coffee table near Abigail's bed, he leaned over her and took the baby in his arms. She giggled and grabbed his little finger with her even smaller hands.

"Hello, Mercy," he whispered, as he smiled down on his daughter.

_That was the first time I held you… _

"Riley! Pass the baby food, please!" Ben yelled over the blaring of the TV. Abigail had gone to Tokyo to attend a convection (which Ben had pushed her into going), and the two best friends were looking after one mischievous Mercy Otis Gates, who had just started crying for food.

"Riley, get this, Riley, get that," the younger man grumbled as he fetched the container of baby food and the special spoon that came along with it. He sat down on the sofa next to Ben, who was trying to make his crying daughter smile. As soon as Mercy noticed the food, her frown turned into a toothless smile.

"There we go," Ben said, putting the food into her mouth. Mercy swallowed the food, and gurgled. "Daddy," she said, slowly. Ben dropped the spoon and Riley's jaw fell open.

"Honey, what did you say?" Ben asked slowly. Mercy looked confused. Had she said something wrong?

"Say it again," Riley urged her, only to have a tiny finger poked in his eye. "Ow!"

"Daddy." Mercy said, rather triumphantly this time.

"She did it! She said her fist word!" Ben jumped up and down on the sofa. It started to creak.

"Abigail's not gonna like this," Riley muttered, as Mercy squealed.

_That was the first time I heard you speak out…_

"But I don't wanna!" Mercy screamed, rather loudly for a four year old. Dressed in a pink dress with ladybirds and hair done up in two brown ponytails, she hung on to the door. "Don't wanna!"

"Honey, you have to," Abigail grunted, trying to push her daughter out the front door of their mansion.

"Can'tIstayherewithyouandDaddyandsearchfortreasure?"

"What? No, honey, you have to go to school. It'll be fun! Instead of finding treasure, you'll find friends. Please, Mercy, the bus will be here any minute now, and Daddy and I need to go to work!"

A blinding flash interrupted the comic scene, and once mother and daughter could see properly again, they saw the grinning face of Ben Gates, camera in hand. "Mercy's first day of school," he said, proudly.

"Not funny! Don't wanna! Help, Daddy!" Mercy made goo-goo eyes at her father, whose heart began to melt for the girl in front of him. Abigail, who was a bit firmer, hissed at her husband, "Don't you dare, Ben."

"Mommy's right, Mercy. Besides, you'll have fun! Trust me." Ben sank to his knees, now face to face with Mercy. He picked her up and walked out the door, as Mercy kicked and screamed on his shoulder.

Abigail let out a sigh of relief, as she gathered her papers for the lecture she had to give that day.

_That was the first time I heard you voice your opinion…_

Abigail was just setting lunch on the table in the 'ginormous' kitchen (as Mercy called it) when she heard a bang so loud that Ben came out of his oak study. "What was that?" he asked, as Abigail shrugged her shoulders.

Mercy came into the kitchen, covered in mud, and bleeding in several places. She was trying very hard not to cry ("Big girls don't cry," Daddy had once told her), but it was too much, and she fell to the marble floor, sobbing profusely. Ben picked her up, trying to soothe her, as Abigail ran to get a tub of hot water and some Band-Aids.

"Tell me what happened! Did you fall?" Ben asked, as he paced around the kitchen, Mercy in his arms.

"She pushed me, Daddy, Gina pushed me in the playground! I hate her! I hate her!" Mercy started sobbing even harder. Abigail came back with a tub of steaming water and the much-needed Band-Aids. They went out into the garden where Ben set Mercy down, and Abigail started to wash the mud off Mercy.

"Why did Gina push you, sweetie?" Abigail asked Mercy, planting a kiss on her now clean forehead.

"Because I wouldn't give her my shiny pink notebook," said Mercy, whose sobs had now become whimpers. Ben laughed. "It's not funny, Daddy!" Mercy retorted defensively.

"Is that all?" Abigail chuckled. "No," Mercy rolled her large translucent gray eyes. "She said I was being a showoff in class 'cause I knew all the answers in the History test."

"And what did you say?" Ben asked, a smile forming on his face, proud of the child who stood before him.

"I told her that I couldn't help it if she was not as smart as I was, because my parents are smart."

_That was the first time you stood up for yourself…_

"Aaahh!!" A scream issued from the bathroom in Mercy's room, followed by a clattering sound. Both parents rushed to her room to see what happened. The seven year old stood on a stool over the sink, trembling, silent tears streaming down her cheeks. Abigail and Ben looked down into the sink, where Mercy's eyes were fixed, to see a solitary tooth.

"Honey, it's alright! Your first tooth fell out, that's all!" Abigail hugged her visibly shaken daughter.

"No, it's not! Now you'll take me to the dentist with his drills and saws and I won't be able to come with you on your trip!" Mercy cried, more distraught about the fact that she may not be accompanying her parents on an expedition to find artifacts in Turkey, than about the blood that was streaming from her mouth.

Ben took a wad of tissues and wiped the stream of blood on Mercy's chin ."Of course not! You don't need to go to the dentist! And you can still come with us," he assured his daughter.

"Promise?"

"Promise. Now get to bed – you might get a surprise in the morning…"

Sure enough, the next morning, as the Gates sat down to enjoy pancakes with maple syrup, a yell erupted from a room upstairs. Mercy came sliding down the banister, a gap in her smile, a shiny coin in her hand.

_That was when you began to grow up…_

"Hey, Uncle Riley," a girl dressed casually in jeans and a tee proclaiming "Daddy's Girl…And Lovin' It!" opened the door to Riley, who was parking his Ferrari next to the Gates' Ford Explorer. "So you'll be babysitting me again tonight."

"You're thirteen. I don't see why you need to be babysat," Riley grumbled, remembering the hot date he'd had that night. Mercy pushed her long, dark brown hair out of her grey eyes, trademarks of her parents.

"You're right, she wouldn't, if only she didn't keep sneaking out. I hate these 'galas' – I have no idea why she wants to come." Ben stepped down the stairs in a tuxedo, while Abigail was elegantly dressed in a strapless black evening gown.

"Don't you try anything funny tonight," Abigail warned her daughter, with a Look in her eyes. Mercy smiled innocently, knowing fully that her parents knew that she would anyway try to pull the wool over Riley's eyes.

"Okay. I'm ordering the pizza. You go upstairs and do…your homework or whatever you girls do. I'm prepared for you today," Riley glared at Mercy, still the picture of innocence, after the Gates had left. He went into the kitchen, as Mercy muttered, "I'm a Gates, Riley, you can never be prepared for me…"

_That was when you began to rebel…_

Mercy glanced at her reflection in the full-length mirror in her parents' room. Dressed in a deep purple gown (courtesy her mother's wardrobe), she applied the finishing touches to her makeup. Finally satisfied, she pulled her cellphone out of her clutch purse, and dialed her best friend's number.

"Desiree – I'm ready. Where are you?" Desiree Reynolds' elder sister Fleur had a driving licence, and was going to drive her to the Smithsonian gala for the Mayan artifacts her father had discovered that summer. Mercy marveled at the sheer genius of the whole plan, which was unfolding before her eyes. It was definitely going to work this time.

"This is Fleur, Mercy, I'm parked across the street. Get here within fifteen minutes, okay? And I was never involved in this."

Mercy tiptoed down the staircase, stilettos in hand. Riley was in the kitchen, on the phone with his girlfriend, the TV blasting out Kylie Minogue. Things couldn't get better. Mercy softly opened the gargantuan doors and stepped outside. She ran down the path (which was hard in heels) but finally reached the gates. There, across the street, in an old Mustang, were Desiree and Fleur.

Mercy opened the gates with great difficulty and crossed the road. She hopped into the Mustang, relief evident on her face.

"You've got a hell of a babysitter," Fleur remarked as they sped down the street, chewing the gum in her mouth noisily. Mercy and Desiree laughed, Desiree having met Riley more than once. The rest of the ride was in silence.

As soon as they reached the museum, Mercy hopped out and yelled her thanks to the sisters. She ran down the road, chattering as the bitter winter wind attacked her. The guards let her into the huge 'ballroom' with smirks, knowing who she was and that she wasn't supposed to be there. Ever since her father had gained a doctorate, he had started working at the Smithsonian along with his wife.

The room was packed with the elite (most of whom had come out of an obligation and were quite bored) and the various prominent personalities of the archaeology world. Mercy spotted her parents and, to her surprise, her grandparents, chatting at the snack table, while others looked admiringly at them. A podium was being set up for speeches (yawn, thought Mercy) and most guests were milling around the artifacts, encased in bulletproof glass. Mercy sidled up to each exhibit, pushing past throngs of formally dressed people who stank of too much Chanel No. 5, and gazed in awe at the rewards of the expedition she had not been allowed to go on. Mercy sighed.

"Ahem." The Secretary of the Smithsonian, a timid looking man tapped the microphone at the podium. Everyone turned to look at him. "This wonderful exhibit is the result of an expedition headed by…"

"Dr Benjamin Gates," Mercy chorused, as she turned to see her father in the spotlight, her grandparents beaming, her mother clapping hard.

"Dr Gates, would you like to say a few words on these artifacts?" The Secretary asked, indicating a speech was required.

"Which one of us?" Ben laughed, since his wife was Dr Gates, too. The crowd laughed with him at his poor joke.

As Mercy clapped, she realized her father would notice her from his vantage point. Ah, well, the point was to prove how smart she was. Still, the night was still young, and she wouldn't let herself be caught so easily. She pushed her way to a box containing a gem-studded burial mask, and awkwardly crouched behind it. Quite a few guests looked at her with an odd expression. Mercy smiled apologetically at them, and grimaced. This was going to be a long night.

Her father's speech was quite good, laced with liberal doses of humour that had the crowd laughing over and over again, till she noticed something in his speech that didn't quite make sense.

"…while Chichen Itza was built in the Soconusco region." Ben stopped abruptly, looking around the room. _Oh God,_ Mercy thought,_ he knows I'm here! Riley must've called him, and now he wants me to point out his mistake! I must not get up. I must not get up. I must not…_

The hall was filled with silence. Everyone was looking puzzled, wondering why Dr Gates had 'ended' so abruptly. Mercy couldn't take it anymore. Being a Gates, she _had_ to correct him. She was grounded for life, she knew, as she stood up.

_That was when you came clean…_

"Um, Dr Gates?" Everyone looked at her, wondering who she was and why the hell she had dared to interrupt such an eminent personality. Her father's smile became bigger, upon seeing her in the crowd, while her mother looked ready to kill her. Her grandfather looked puzzled, while her grandmother looked oddly pleased.

"Yes? Is there something you'd like to point out?" Ben grinned broadly, knowing fully that she had fallen for his bait.

"Yes, actually…Chichen Itza is on the Yucatan Peninsula, not the Soconusco region." Mercy nervously glanced at her mother, who looked even angrier now. _Must be the dress. And the clutch purse. And the jewellery. Oh God, I'm dead…_

"Oh, I apologise, ladies and gentlemen, she is absolutely right. In any case, this ends my boring speech, and you can finally enjoy the food. Good evening, everyone." Ben walked off the stage and walked right towards his daughter. The rest of the family followed too. Mercy gulped. "Ril…I mean, Uncle Riley called, right?"

"Right," said Ben, looking thoroughly amused at his daughter's clever escape attempt and his wife's reaction. Abigail was steaming as Mercy sheepishly said, "Um…hi, grandma, grandpa?"

_That was when you proved yourself…_

"Hurry up, you all! The show's just abut to begin!" The stage coordinator popped her head into the actors' changing room. Everyone was touching up their make-up or fixing their hair. Mercy and Desiree were reading their scripts, mugging up whatver they could in the last few minutes before they were ushered on stage.

"I never really saw you as an actress, Merce – more a female Indiana Jones or Dirk Pitt," Desiree quipped as they headed backstage.

"Me neither. Believe me, I feel like my life is a series of Clive Cussler novels," Mercy said, sneaking a peek an the huge crowd that had gathered in the school's auditorium to watch the annual play. Mercy, now fifteen, had agreed to play a sidekick's role to drama queen Desiree's heroine. She took a deep breath, hoping she wouldn't make a fool of herself infront of her family – Dad, Mom, Pops, Grandma, and, of course, _Uncle_ Riley.

"Places, everyone!" A voice rang out as the lights dimmed. Mercy's hand grew cold as she rushed on stage beside Desiree…

_That was when I realized…_

The rush of it all had overwhelmed Mercy so much that once she was backstage after the show, she was clamouring for it all over again. A month and a half's practice had culminated into one hugely successful night's performance. Although she felt it was nowhere as good a feeling as when you discover an ancient treasure lost to the ages, she had thoroughly enjoyed the whole thing.

And people had actually liked her performance! Parents and friends alike were congratulating her, except for Gail, who had tried to badly imitate Mercy's performance in the green room – until, that is, the principal had walked in.

But Mercy hadn't seen her father anywhere. Her mother was at a dig site in Morocco, so she wasn't here. Of course, there had been hundreds of people, and the lights had been in her eyes, she was feeling bad that her father hadn't come backstage to pick her up. Almost everyone else had gone home with their parents, but there she was, sitting and poking her cheese sandwich with a fork.

"Merce?" A deep voice called her name. She looked up to find her father, smiling with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Daddy!" Suddenly the world didn't exist – she was a child who was running to her father to show him a butterfly, or a pottery shard at a dig site, or running to him just for love and support.

She crashed into his arms and hugged him tightly. "That was a great performance, Mercy," he said softly, caressing her. "I'm so proud of you."

"Thanks, Dad." She let go of him and ran to get her stuff. Ben stared after her, at the changes that had occurred in his life. One thing hadn't changed, though.

…_that I was going to have to let go, sooner or later._

She was a Daddy's Girl, and would always be.


End file.
